


Perhaps

by garbagefluff



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: A sprinkle of fluff, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Confusion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Longing, Love, M/M, drunken arguments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 16:57:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10365279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagefluff/pseuds/garbagefluff
Summary: Hawke and Fenris are "not" together, but Hawke has had enough of Fenris' mixed messages.  After a drunken argument, and some deep confessions, the two finally sort out a few of their feelings.  At least for now.





	

Fenris stared blankly into the dying embers of the fireplace, absent mindedly pulling at the red ribbon around his wrist with one hand, and holding a half empty wine bottle in the other. Try as he might, sleep often seemed to evade him and tonight was no different.

He was suddenly snapped out of his reverie by pounding at the door. He leapt to his feet, and instinctively reached for his blade; wine bottle smashing on the ground. Heart pounding, he shook his head and re-sheathed his weapon, feeling foolish at the overreaction. Few knew the decrepit mansion was even inhabited and although it was absurdly late for a social call, surely anyone coming to hunt him down wouldn’t knock.  And yet, old habits die hard. Fenris tiptoed over the puddle of wine and broken glass and headed downstairs.

Cracking the door open, he was greeted to a very disheveled looking Hawke. “Hawke? Are you alright? Has something happened?” he asked, swinging the door fully open, now deeply concerned by the almost mania in Hawke’s eyes.

“Ah, Fenris! I was beginning to think you weren’t here… I… hello.” Even to Fenris, who was now sufficiently drunk himself, could tell that Hawke had been drinking.

“Is there something you need, Hawke?”

“Well, I... No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come,” Hawke began before interrupting himself and nervously rubbing the back of his head. “But, well, yes, I had hoped… I wanted to... I don’t know. May I come in?”

He barely waited for Fenris to nod before pushing his way inside.

“Are you sure you’re well, Hawke?” Fenris asked tentatively.

Hawke was swaying slightly as he shrugged and gestured for the two of them to head upstairs where he knew Fenris always had a fire going. Hawke scoffed as they entered the room. “Throwing more bottles around?” he asked, sounding more accusatory than curious as he stepped over the mess.

“You startled me. I did not expect anyone at this hour,” Fenris responded curtly, growing more and more impatient with Hawke’s antics.

“Mmm.” Hawke was now glaring at Fenris. Fenris had never seen Hawke like this. Fenris had been at Hawke’s side through quite a lot. Fenris had seen Hawke revel and make merry. Fenris had seen Hawke in battle. Fenris had even seen Hawke at his darkest times, lost and sullen, unsure of how to continue. But this, this was strange. His mood seemed to shift with every word Fenris uttered.

“Hawke?” Fenris finally said, breaking an incredibly long and awkward silence. “What is going on?”

“Yes, that is the question, isn’t it Fenris? What _IS_ going on?” Hawke snapped.

Fenris took a step back. “I… do not understand.”

Hawke sighed loudly and threw himself forcefully down on the bed.

After a moment's consideration Fenris carefully sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand on Hawke’s thigh waiting patiently for Hawke to explain what in the world his problem was.

Hawke sat up slowly, and took Fenris’ hand in his own. “This Fen. What is this?” he asked shaking his hand. “What are we doing?”

Fenris cursed under his breath and looked up at the ceiling. “Not this again.”

“Yes, this again! I need a straight answer from you. It’s driving me mad!”

“And you needed to come over in the dead of night to discuss this?” Fenris asked.

“I know it’s late, I’m sorry. But, I can’t keep doing this! You tell me we can’t be together. And the next day it’s back to flirting and holding hands when no one is looking. You tell me I should move on. But if I so much as speak to another man, you look at me as though I’ve just stabbed you. What do you want from me, Fenris?”

“Hawke, please don’t.”

“What do you want Fenris?” Hawke pressed again.

Fenris slid his hand out of Hawke's. “You’re drunk, Hawke. Let this go.”

Hawke grabbed his arm and shook it, eyes fixed on the favor that Fenris still tied to his wrist every morning. Other than the one night they had spent together, he had never been this forceful with him before. His movements seemed desperate. “Why won’t you take this off?!” Hawke yelled.

Fenris pulled away once more and stood up, his lyrium markings faintly glowing. He merely shook his head, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration.

“Dammit, Fenris! What do you want!?” Hawke shouted.

“Fasta vass, Hawke, you! That’s the problem! I want you. I want nothing, but you. I cannot breathe when you are near me. I cannot think!”

“Then why do this!? Why do you insist on pushing me away? I love you, Fenris!”

Fenris’ eyes widened and a hint of a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. It was the first time the mage had ever said the words and although his heart swelled at the thought, he turned away and sighed.

“I remain at your side, Hawke,” he said sadly, not sure of how else to respond.

Hawke slowly stood, his anger now subsided. He felt Fenris shudder as he pulled him into a gentle embrace. Fenris all but collapsed into him.

“I… I can’t…” Fenris whispered, tears in his eyes.

Hawke placed a thumb under Fenris’ chin and tilted his face up to meet his gaze. “No. That’s not good enough. Not this time,” he said calmly.

Fenris looked into Hawke's golden brown eyes for as long as he could bare, ultimately choosing to press his face into Hawke's chest before responding. “I can’t be with you. I can’t be with anyone. It is… difficult to explain. The… memories. They are almost unbearable… and… I don’t wish to hurt you.”

“You’re already hurting me,” Hawke whispered into Fenris’ snowy white hair.

“I know,” Fenris’ voice cracked as he said the words.

“Please. Try to explain. I deserve that much,” Hawke pleaded, now stroking the back of Fenris' head comfortingly.

Fenris straightened up, although he did not remove himself from Hawke’s embrace. He breathed in deeply and shook his head. “I do not know how to… do any of this. I have no memories of pleasant relationships. The only experiences I have recollections of… well, Danarius did not treat me as you do. Honestly, Hawke, I am frightened. I know you are not he, but being so… intimate, wonderful as it was, was also alarming. The flood of memories of my past life are not all that have plagued me after that night. Being able to briefly recall images from before _these_ ,” he said, slowly twisting his hand, examining the still slightly illuminated lyrium tattoos, "only to have them torn away and replaced with the memories of acts I was forced to perform with whomever I was passed around to… was excruciating. And not being able to immediately differentiate them from you, sickened me.”

Hawke stiffened and slowly dropped his arms, embarrassed and ashamed of his actions. For drunkenly storming over to the mansion just to pick a fight. For forcing Fenris to reveal experiences he obviously would prefer to keep buried. Fenris, however, did not pull away, instead he leaned forward and again rested his forehead on Hawke’s chest.

Hawke apprehensively patted Fenris on the back, suddenly unsure of himself. Of course he had known Fenris had been deeply abused, but he had no idea of the true extent. “Fenris, I'm so sorry, I didn't know…” he stuttered.

“It is not your fault,” Fenris said simply. “And although it was unworthy of me to leave you as I did, I stand by my decision. You deserve better.”

Hawke gently took Fenris’ hand and lead him back to the bed. As they sat, he placed a hand carefully on either side of Fenris’ face. “Thank you for telling me. I am sorry. I really should not have come over like this. But, Fenris, there is no better for me. There is only you.”

“I'm not ready for this,” Fenris responded, shakily.

“Then I’ll wait,” Hawke said, brushing a thumb across his cheek.

“I don't know if I ever will be,” Fenris said more firmly.

Hawke merely smiled. “Then I’ll wait forever.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Fenris tried to say blankly, but he could not help but smile back.

“Liar,” Hawke replied, now beaming.

“Perhaps,” Fenris chuckled, wrapping his arms around the foolish man.

Hawke pressed a kiss into Fenris’ forehead, and although things would soon go back to stolen glances and awkward encounters, for now, at least, they both had a little hope.


End file.
